assorted rants

things that piss me off

The End of the World, Take # 479, Pragmatism Has Its Advantages

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goodinbed

I was fortunate enough this weekend to pretty much not have to do squat.  So I didn’t.  It was lovely.  I missed seeing my granddaughter, but I had such a horrific headache yesterday that it was good for me to simply stay in bed.  After awhile I felt better and figured since I pay for premium cable (mostly because Jerry has to have all those stinking sports channels I don’t watch) I might as well watch TV.  The only thing that sucked is that it seems right now everything on TV is all centered on the same theme- that 12-21-12 is going to be the end of the world.  Never mind that the Mayans, while technologically advanced, were superstitious enough to pull beating hearts out of live humans, to sacrifice to demons.

sacrifice

I really want to trust my apocalyptic timing to guys like that.  I think that the whole Mayan calendar thing is sort of the same concept as going through the calendar on my cell phone and coming to the conclusion that the world must end on December 31, 9999 because no programmer thought it necessary for there to be a provision for a five-digit year. Never mind that by the time the year 10,000 rolls around either a.) all the humans will be dead, or b.) if there are humans they will be using different technologies than we use today.

People have been trying to set a date for the end of the world for forever.  Odds are they’re wrong this time, just like they were back on May 21, 2011.  And all those other times too.

the-end-of-the-worldIs this the End of the World- or just Detroit?

Let’s face it, the odds are against the date setters, and if I were God (good thing I’m NOT) I wouldn’t let them have the satisfaction.  I’d pick a day and a time that’s completely off the radar and surprise everyone which is exactly how God said He’s going to do it:

(Jesus said-) “Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come.  But understand this: If the owner of the house had known at what time of night the thief was coming, he would have kept watch and would not have let his house be broken into. So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man will come at an hour when you do not expect him.” – Matthew 24:42-44 (NIV)

I don’t know when the End of Days is going to be, and I’m not really that worried about it, because it’s one of those things I can’t change, but I could almost bet it won’t be on December 21.  Maybe whenever it is, it will be at the end of February when the world (at least Central Ohio’s portion of it) is at its most dark, dreary and depressing.

There are, however, websites devoted to Doomsday 2012  who claim true believers with all the credibility of Britney Spears.  Yeah, the crazy chick who went nuts and shaved her head.  I’ll believe it when Ozzy endorses it.

ozzy

Ozzy Rocks!  Never mind he’s the same age as my Dad.

I just don’t see too many believable authorities giving the 12-21-12 doomsday theory much credence. Unless proven otherwise, as far as I’m concerned, the doomsday sayers are simply modern-day Millerites.  We’ve all heard that noise before. NASA has pretty much shot down most of that hoo-hah.  I figure if these guys could send people to the moon and get them back then they probably know a thing or two about stuff that’s going on- or not going on- in outer space.

Speaking of outer space, you really don’t hear much about UFOs anymore.  I mean, they’re sort of in the same category as Bigfoot.  I’ll believe there’s such a thing as Bigfoot when someone can either capture a live one or find a carcass.  How can a giant ape live in the forest without ever leaving a dead body or even scat?  I mean, bears live in the forest and they leave carcasses and scat.  People catch live bears too.  It would be as if someone is alleging the existence of redneck men but can’t provide evidence of beer cans, Hershey splatters in the toilet bowl, and a trail of cigarette cellophanes and dirty clothes behind them.  Redneck men exist.  Even should they try to hide, we can prove the existence of the redneck male by virtue of all the PBR and Natty Lite cans and Slim-Jim wrappers they leave behind, as well as all the fudgy whitey-tighties.

rednecktatooUnfortunately, most rednecks are not shy.  Even when they should be.

I think I should have some sort of celebratory “The World’s Still Here” party on December 22.  Then again, that’s the day I will probably be at CVS around midnight, buying all the candy my sisters don’t want my nieces and nephews to have.  This year I am really only bothering to buy the good stuff for my granddaughter.  Steve-o has already gotten a high dollar pair of shoes and a car seat to put in his car- early- so I’m not getting him anything else.  I got Mom a velour sweater that isn’t fugly, and I got Dad a gag calendar (so far) that has Toilets of the World on it.  I’ll probably also get him some socks and some long johns or something.  It’s hard to buy for the man who has a taxidermied squirrel on a skateboard.

toilets-of-the-world-calendar-2013-5239-0-1345046806000At least Dad appreciates my humor.

License to Annoy, I Hate the Holidays #584, and The Drippy Winter Funk

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Ok, so I am a brunette by virtue of hair dye.  I’m also over 40.  Cut me some slack.

Oh, yes, this brunette remembers way too much, especially in regard to others’ drunk and stupid antics.   Jerry is attempting to stay sober so he can get good and liquored up for the OSU/Michigan game Saturday.  Joy and rapture.  The game is at noon, which means I can forget my Saturday morning cougar nap.  Jerry will be raring to go by 8AM if not earlier.  I wish he had the same enthusiasm for waking up on work days.  I don’t care for football on a good day, but dealing with Jerry when the beer drinking begins at noon (or earlier) is going to be hell on wheels. I can just imagine dragging him in the car to go home after the game.   It’s almost enough to make me wish I could drink to forget.   Right now I’m not in a particularly social mood either and I’m sure I will be even less inclined toward interacting with other humans after dealing with my relatives on Thursday.

No, I won’t have to eat this.  But in the end, I don’t know if eating humble pie is worth a high class meal.  I’d rather be home alone eating White Castles, truth be told.

Maybe I shouldn’t be so despondent.  I do have a family.  I get along with my parents for the most part and am at least on speaking terms with my sisters.  But these get togethers serve to sort of rub my failure in my face.  I’ve never really done anything worthwhile other than somehow manage not to either starve to death or become a victim of a spree killer, and being around my sisters only underscores the point.

I know it’s been a long time, but a tortured childhood is a gift that keeps on giving!

Steve-o has managed to thoroughly piss off my granddaughter’s mother- so much so that I would be pleasantly surprised if I will be able to have any interaction with my granddaughter again.  He’s actually at the point of wanting to do what the male contributor of his DNA did- signing off his parental rights- which will in effect make me a stranger on the street.  Yeah, I know, the whole biz with relationships and so forth- and I am a cynical one.  I have to admit I pretty much anticipated this, though I am thoroughly disgusted with the POMC and the way he’s handling things. It breaks my heart.  When it comes to kids in Ohio courts fathers have no rights except to pay up.   I’m pissed at him- because I warned him not to be such a dick to her- but I also understand the futility of him trying to maintain any kind of meaningful relationship with his daughter when her mother won’t speak to or deal with him for whatever reason.   The courts always side with mothers in this state, unless they’re crack heads or serial killers and sometimes even then.  She is a good mother, and her relationship to Steve-o or to any of the rest of the family is not an issue there.    If she doesn’t want him or any of us around her kid, she can and will get her way.

This is reason enough for me to avoid the forced family togetherness this week.  I’m pissed at my own son, won’t get to see my granddaughter, and have to deal with my parents and my two sisters.  Damn, I wish I could have a nice, stiff drink.  Or twelve.

I’m almost considering feigning communicable illness to avoid the compulsory Thanksgiving roadtrip to my sister’s house, where I will have my poverty, marriage to a drunken redneck, and my painful lack of any sort of meaningful accomplishments rubbed in my face yet again.   Hello, punchbowl!  The turd has arrived!  That’s how I feel when I go to her house, and I have to drive 100 miles to do it.  Me in my Goodwill and Target discount rack clothes, driving a Toyota Yaris, showing up about as welcome as Cousin Eddy (remember Christmas Vacation) in this suburban wonderland of palatial homes and BMWs.  It’s depressing.  I don’t know why I even bother showing up, because I know my sisters are ashamed of me anyway.  I give them something to laugh at, or perhaps my saga serves as a cautionary tale for their offspring.  Even so, I don’t really think either one of them would give two shits in a baggie whether I showed up or not- except that, for whatever it’s worth, I do bring homemade pies.

I may be poor and not good for much, but I can cook.

There is a bright spot.  I have to work on Friday.  So I have a good excuse to beat feet quickly after dinner and not stay overnight at my sister’s.  Then I’d end up having to go through the hell of Black Friday shopping with the two of them and my Mom.  I think I’d rather slit my wrists with a rusty razor blade and slowly die of exsanguination.  The rusty razor blade would afford a far more pleasant death than traipsing through Nordstrom’s (there’s a place where I am definitely the turd in the punchbowl) while my sister runs around flashing her plastic and Mom’s gawking at all sorts of fugly high dollar kitsch she can’t afford.

I like mustard too, but NOBODY needs this!

I can’t get into the holidays.  I wish I could- but I have no money and no time to do any of the things that would make the holidays fun.   I thought I would at least be able to enjoy some time with my granddaughter, but I highly doubt that will happen either, thanks to my son and his abysmal relationship skills.

If I could avoid my entire family and all the holiday crud and come out sometime in March or April that would be OK with me.  But, alas, the drippy winter funk begins.  I know I have to deal.  Oh, and I have to remember to go to Target and get my scripts.  I don’t want to run out of Prozac anytime soon.

I’ll be armed with the camera for both my Thanksgiving Dinner in the Punchbowl and the OSU/Michigan Beer Drinking and Football Outing.  Comedy is the flipside of tragedy, and I’m going to be trolling for comedy this week for sure.  If I can get past the tears, that is.

Here we go again!

Channeling for Dummies, and a “Today In History” Lesson

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 Today in History, July 27, 1974 : Congress began impeachment proceedings on Richard Nixon.

I have to provide a slight disclaimer here.  I don’t believe in spiritism or communicating with the dead.  It is possible to communicate with the spirit world alright, but according to the Bible when one does that, you’re not talking to your dear departed Aunt Frances and you’re not channeling up George Burns.  Even though you think you might be chatting with someone who’s taking the Dirt Nap, you’ve really been having a convo with Beezelbub and company.  Of course, in Obama’s case, the line between him and Beezelbub is rather blurred anyway.  I’m already convinced that they are already quite good chums, and that Beezelbub’s been in charge of the teleprompter all along.  Just my opinion, that, but I’m pretty sure of it.

She does have skin like a rhinoceros, but not necessarily in a good way.  How about some Oil of Olay?

Not long ago, Hillary Clinton claimed to have gotten messages from Eleanor Roosevelt (Eleanor being the only First Lady I can think of who was both more radical and homelier than both Hillary Clinton and Michelle Obama, but I digress) which not only speaks volumes about where Hillary’s coming from, but about just how extreme Obama and his minions really are.  Learning from history is one thing.  Expecting historical figures to take a hiatus from the Great Beyond just to talk to you speaks both to your own personal narcissism as well as your own insecurities.

This being said, if Obama wants to glean some useful information from the Great Beyond (and again, I don’t believe it’s possible to do that) then Richard Nixon is his man.  If the people can convince the do-nothing Congress to grow a pair and impeach Obama as should have been done early in 2009, that is.  It could happen.  I hope it does.

There is no “working with” Obama and his cronies.  Appeasement does not work with bullies.

The situation the Republicans in Congress have with Obama and his cronies reminds me a lot of myself growing up.  I was the weak and sickly nerdy kid- bad coordination, bad clothes, thick glasses, the whole nerd package. I got the hell beaten out of me on an almost daily basis.  I had my things stolen and broken, and my oldest sister especially, did this with impunity. My sister didn’t stop taking my stuff and pounding on me until she took my car and ran it out of gasoline and almost out of oil.   I finally got pissed, saw red, and on sheer adrenaline alone, I beat the living shit out of her.   To this day- 26 years later- she will not ask to drive any car I own.  Appeasement just convinces bullies that they can extort more and more and that they never have to compromise.  Appeasing a bully just makes you the bully’s whipping post.  Take it from someone who knows.  The only way to defeat a bully is to fight back and show him/her that no means no.

Yes, we the people CAN remove a failed president.

As far as the Thief in Chief, I don’t condone violence or any remedy for B.O.’s despotic and likely illegal regime that isn’t specifically provided for in the Constitution.  The Framers of the Constitution understood human nature and built in a remedy for the people to remove a president who oversteps his boundaries and/or breaks the law.  Obama has already committed multiple impeachable offenses.  It’s just a matter of the leaders in the House of Representatives having the stones to not just call him on it but to actually DO it.  The Senate will follow suit when they realize that the public outrage against Obama might just extend to them too.  Stranger things have happened.

Even though impeachment might be a sort of symbolic thing (like it was with Bill Clinton) it effectively kept him under wraps and was at the very least a form of damage control.

Personally I think Obama should take the hint from Dick Nixon and bypass the drama, although I doubt if his incredible narcissism will allow him to.  Resign now and keep at least a shred of dignity, or wait until all the dirty scandals are dragged out in the open.

Neal Schon Rules, Bad News and Silver Linings, and Other Ephemera

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I’ve adored this guy’s work for 30 years so I’m biased, but this album is good!

I’m glad that I’d agreed to take my sister-in-law with me to the Journey show last night, because when I woke up yesterday I was damned depressed.  Somehow there’s got to be a silver lining in four more years of the worst president in American history, but yesterday morning I sure as hell couldn’t see it.  I still can’t, but part of the Serenity Prayer is accepting what you can’t change.  That being said, I will work like hell to change what I can, and I will still keep on telling the truth about the Naked Emperor.  I have a moral obligation to call out evil for what it is.   I hope and pray that the history of Richard Nixon will repeat itself.  The difference between Obama and Nixon, however, is a.) Obama is evil and corrupt to his rotten core and his deeds far exceed the treachery of Nixon’s, and b.) unlike Nixon, Obama thinks he’s God, and he will not peaceably resign.

The media (who remember have covered for Obama and his slimy cronies all along) are going to say that the GOP needs to move toward the center.  Bullshit.  The GOP needs to move- and stay- more to the right.  Many people didn’t bother to go out and vote for Romney because they couldn’t see a clear difference between the plan Romney proposed and the slimy bait and switch tactics that Obama’s been passing off.  Obama won partially because he’s a liar and adept at deceiving the American people.  He’s played the race card, apparently to the point of making people believe that just because one is black that their race gives them free rein to be completely inept but still get a free pass.  I say equal opportunity also means that every race has the equal opportunity to SUCK- and to be called out and face the consequences when they suck.  My black friends don’t get that, and most of them still think Obama is the best thing since sliced bread.

My black friends don’t believe me when I tell them about Obama’s complicity and approval of black genocide (40% of all aborted babies are black, but black people are only 12% of the population,) and how it works in his best interest to keep as many people as he can uneducated and governmentally dependent.  When I criticize Obama and call out his hatred of our country to them – and even to some white people I know who have inexplicably jumped on the Obama Titanic- the first response is that I’m a racist.  Though I also point out that I would vehemently oppose a(n) (all) white guy who has done and said what Obama’s done and said, my rational arguments against him fall on deaf ears.

Apparently these two ass-clowns were so funny that people wanted an encore.

It’s never too early to impeach, although Obama would really have to do something outrageous to cheese off Harry Reid and that crowd.  If it were possible for the public outcry against him to be so overwhelmingly loud that even the Dems in the Senate would have to hear and fear for their cushy positions, they would throw Obama under the bus, but the problem so far is even with all the egregious errors and trampling on the Constitution and the impeachable offenses that Obama’s committed, the media covers for Obama.  They’ve done a really good job of putting a ribbon on a turd, but let’s face it, even when you put a ribbon on a turd, you don’t make the turd not be a turd anymore.

But the Affirmative Action president gets a pass!  Apparently if you’re black (or half black) you don’t get the equal opportunity to face the consequences when you fail.

Sadly, while I liked Mitt Romney more as I listened to him, even I have to admit that I didn’t so much vote FOR Romney as I did AGAINST Obama.  That’s not a really great motive, even when you are voting against evil.  I think what this country really needs is to have someone really great to believe in, and who can explain his/her plan in a way that connects with the majority of people. Unfortunately the last one we have seen like that is Reagan, and he’s dead.  Romney is a good man, and I thought he had a much better plan than Obama, although I freely admit my mentally challenged deaf Husky could do a better job in the Oval Office than Obama.  At least Sheena is housebroken.  The problem is that Romney is not a Reagan, as much as people like me who are so disgusted and appalled with the Marxist-in-Chief would have liked him to be.  Romney appealed to those who really had it with Obama, but Romney didn’t appeal to those who for whatever (bizarre and whacked out) reason were neutral toward or favored Obama.  Therein lies the problem.

I don’t think that being less conservative and more politically correct is the answer at all, unlike the MSM pundits who want the American public to shut up and be good little socialists like they are in Europe.  I think being American, not accepting the status quo, and standing up for the truth is the only way to fly.  The challenge is how to get the right message across, and finding the right person to do it.

All I know is I will keep on telling the truth, and maybe one person might get it.  I’m too crass and to the point to even think of pursuing political office.  For the most part, I vent, but maybe my venting will make someone stop and think.

Back to Neal Schon.

I am so glad I got to hear his rendition of the National Anthem.

The Journey show last night was awesome, and so were the other bands- Pat Benatar and Loverboy were excellent live, and the whole show was certainly worth seeing.  If anything it lifted my mood and got my mind out of the dark funk.

This too shall pass.  I don’t like to let political views stand between friends, even though I believe very strongly in what I believe in.  At least I care.  I may not be 100% right but then again neither is anyone else.

Everyone has to believe in something.  I believe I’ll get back to jamming to The Calling and stay out of trouble for the afternoon.

Sometimes the Truth Hurts, I Am Not a Confectioner, and an Update from Fly-Over Country

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I think Little Mogadishu (corner of Morse & Westerville Rd.s in NE Columbus) was an excellent place to display this sign.

I’ve always believed the First Amendment works both ways.  Unfortunately when conservatives exercise their First Amendment rights, some ass-pilot has to jump in and block that freedom of expression, and they succeed in doing it far too often.

The Voter Fraud sign- which is part of the Ohio Revised Code- was deemed to be “racially offensive” and that it caused “voter intimidation” because it was put up in neighborhoods where voter fraud might be an issue (i.e. precincts that supported Obama heavily back in 2008.)  Unfortunately Clear Channel caved in and removed the signs, leaving us with another public service announcement asking whether or not we know if we are using the right car seat.

Granted, car seat safety is important, but so is making sure people understand that when you vote you follow the rules.  What is racist or intimidating about that- unless of course, your aim is to cheat, wink-wink?  This sign should only be intimidating to potential cheaters as far as I’m concerned.  What’s the problem?  Oh, apparently conservatives are not protected by the First Amendment?

This really pisses me off.

I am voting- at my polling place on Nov. 6th, because early voting in Franklin County is being held at a location in a not-so-safe part of town, where I feel intimidated even in broad daylight- smack in the middle of  the ‘hood.   I’m sure I’m not the only one of a certain ethnic background (aka: white people) who feels that way either.  But I am voting once, under one name, after showing my ID and signing the book, in accordance with Ohio law.  The voter fraud billboard wouldn’t bother me in the least if it were displayed in my little corner of suburbia- or on every corner- because I plan on following the rules.  Why is it “offensive” down in the ‘hood?  Why do I have to be afraid to go to the early voting center because of how it’s oh, so strategically placed?  Which voters are being intimidated here?

I may not vote early, for fear of not surviving the parking lot of the early voting center in one piece, or with a car in one piece, but I’m still voting.  I just want to be sure my name is in the book at my precinct and that my ballot is counted correctly.

I’m not a confectioner and I don’t candy coat the truth.  Racism sucks no matter which direction it’s pointed, and frankly I am tired of being made to feel guilty for being white and for refusing to apologize for being conservative.

It breaks my heart to see what Obama has done in this country, but especially in the arena of race relations.  I have friends of many different races – even Jerry is mostly Native American- and it makes me sad to see the veracity with which most black people hold on to the very ideologies that keep them from achieving more and getting off of governmental dependence.  I hate Obama’s politics not because he’s half black but because his politics are dangerous and wrong. As far as I’m concerned Marxism, socialism and communism are failed ideologies that need to be consigned to the waste bin of history- just like the list of “50 difficult things you can do to ‘save the earth'” list the greenies put out some time ago (which would be funny- if it wasn’t so downright lamebrained.)

I am afraid Obama’s woeful mishandling of foreign policy, his utter ignorance of history, and his thorough disdain for the importance of the Constitutional mandate for national defense is going to prove to be deadly for not only the US but the rest of the formerly free world.

As far as displaying billboards with laws and penalties on them, why aren’t the smokers screaming about this one:

These are posted in all sorts of places where smokers might want to light up!

I don’t condone smoking.  In fact, I loathe it in my car and in my house and Jerry is well aware of that fact.  But the anti-smoking sign follows the same principle of the voter fraud sign- the no smoking sign would only prove offensive to those who wish to violate the no smoking rule- yet these puppies are posted in just about every public place where a smoker might think it safe to light up.  It’s supposed to deter the smoker from violating the law.  What’s wrong with posting a law in a place where people may violate that law, to discourage them from violating that law?  If it’s not the law and just a threat, I’d understand the whole intimidation charge.  If it were legal to light up in public places and you posted a no smoking under penalty of law type sign then it would be intimidating smokers from doing something legal.  People voting multiple times, dead people voting, and ineligible people voting is illegal.  What’s the problem with pointing that out?

On a lighter note, Joe Biden made an appearance at the high school in Marion today (retch, gag, barf) but he forgot he was in OHIO and not IOWA.  People in Ohio do know the difference between Ohio and Iowa.  Ohio is further east and not quite as flat- for those not acquainted with the Midwest or who have never been to fly-over country.  I hope the people in my hometown see through this laughable ass-clown.  The Democrats have heavily contributed to fact the place has become a cracktown with very few jobs besides welfare. I will have to get the lowdown from the locals, but I don’t think he attracted too much of a crowd- other than the high school students who were probably forced to attend.

The actual movie “Beavis and Butthead do America” was funny, but these two ass-clowns are tragic.

Snot, Snot, Everywhere, Interesting to Visit, and Sadness vs. Euphoria

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Interesting to visit, but I don’t want to stay.

The Haunted Prison experience was awesome.  I’ve been to some really good haunted houses, haunted hayrides, etc. but this one takes the prize.  The bad thing is that you can’t take pics inside the prison- I took this one from the road outside, but we had to leave the cameras and the cell phones in the car.  I will say that I was a bit taken aback when I noticed the tickets include a warning that the management is not responsible for anyone losing control of his/her bladder and/or bowels.  I remained continent, which is saying a lot probably considering that I was one of the oldest people there, but I am really glad I used the ladies’ before I got in line.

The fact that the Mansfield Reformatory was a working prison for about 100 years adds to the creep factor quite a bit.  It’s a huge facility, but only a very small portion of it is used for the haunted prison excursion, and most of those areas are in the oldest parts of the prison. Some of the cell blocks are five stories high.  As the building aged, certain parts of it were left to decay while newer additions were built on.  I don’t see how it would have been feasible to heat the cell blocks with the five story high ceilings- let alone to work out some sort of plumbing arrangement.  Ohio winters can be deathly cold- and summers can be deadly hot as well.   Suffice to say without decent HVAC provisions this part of the world is unlivable even if you’re in prison. Some of the cells we saw had toilets while others didn’t, but then it was hard to tell which parts of the prison were shut down when.  The whole place was decommissioned in 1981, so all of it’s been sitting around rotting for over 30 years anyway.

As one who is cursed with the respiratory funk anyway, a bloody head cold really sucks.

I hate snot.  I hate drowning in it.  I hate hawking it up all over the place.  Green snot, brown snot, yellow snot, clear snot, I would love to go for a day without choking on it.  Even when I’m not suffering from any acute contagion of the respiratory system, the snot drainage down the back of my throat is constant, and I choke on it unless I sleep with my head elevated at a 45° angle.  When I am suffering from an acute contagion of the respiratory system, I am a veritable snot Niagara Falls. Elevation does not help, unless I am sitting straight up.  Vast quantities of anti-snot medications are required to keep me breathing at all- in between hacking up huge snot balls.  Think the Ghostbusters movies and you have it.

 No, I am not exaggerating.  I wish I were.

Of course I take three days off trying to escape the rat race and all that mess, only to spend those three days (and the weekend too) swilling Nyquil and spewing forth gallons of disgusting, slimy multicolored snot.  Today’s a lot better than the past few days, although I’ve got the Dayquil and the anti-snot pills handy should I need them.  The snots did have one good side effect though.  Jerry pretty much kept his distance and his whining was at a minimum.  As I get better that will probably change.  I did get some quiet time in between being heavily medicated and hawking up infinitely foul goo to watch some of my favorite movies and chill out with the dogs, so it wasn’t a total loss.  I do remember- as if I needed a reminder- why I am almost OCD about being around those with contagions though.  The bad part is that no matter how paranoid you are about hygiene and handwashing and all that noise, eventually you will get down and something will get to you.  Admittedly in the past few weeks I’ve been pretty stressed out and doing too much and getting run down so I think it was inevitable no matter how much Lysol I spray or zinc lozenges I take.  At least today I see marked improvement, which sort of figures, since I have a Dr.’s appointment Friday.  Either I will be completely cleared up or one step in the grave by then.   I never seem to be able to get in when I’m actually sick.  Go figure.  Personally as far as the various respiratory funks go, I think modern science hasn’t progressed much more than the patent medicine hawkers (man, I am using the word “hawk” a lot in this post) of the 19th century.  I’d probably done just as well and paid less for this:

Of course most patent medicines were either opium or alcohol or both.

Billy Joel wrote a song many years ago called “Summer at Highland Falls.”  I sort of wonder if Billy Joel might be bi-polar because the refrain of the song is, “it’s either sadness or euphoria.”  I can’t say I can ever remember being euphoric, but then I’m not bi-polar.  Living with a bi-polar person did give me future reference on how to deal with unpredictable coke head bosses I would encounter later in life.  Mom was never a coke head (thank God) but untreated bi-polar people and coke heads act remarkably similar.  I know the sadness end of the equation all too well, but most of the time my emotional state can be described as a quiet, bland sort of melancholy.  Unless of course I’m watching Beavis deep fry a dead rat as he’s toiling away at Burger World, or listening to Butthead point out every possible bit of double entendre he hears.  I don’t know why I find such puerile comedy so hilarious, but I do.  Euphoria, not so much, but I’ll take what amusement I can get.

The pisser is, as I found out right after having all four wisdom teeth chiselled out, I’m highly allergic to codeine, which is a natural opiate…no good drugs for me 😦

I did have a rather fortuitous encounter- actually two of them- as I was returning from the campground.  I was stopped in traffic coming back from Lancaster only to get a glimpse of the Romney tour bus. (I got a pic- though somewhat crappy since it was moving- that time.)  Then as I was coming home from Kroger’s later on Friday I’m stopped about a block from my house only to discover that Romney and his retinue are chowing at the City Barbeque next door.  That was rather cool.  I didn’t get pics that time but I did get to talk with one of the Franklin County Republicans who got to chow with Romney and company, so that was somewhat cool.  I hope that it’s a portent of things to come.  I’d been pissed if I’d had to wait in traffic for Obama and his minions, and even more pissed to think he was chowing next door to my house.  Both candidates have been spending a lot of time in Ohio.  My condolences- as I’m sure that they’re both used to much more exciting places- but maybe you’ll both see how us ‘po folk live and have a little empathy for us, eh?

Observations of a Cynical Old Bitty, Sports Commentary, and Keeping it Simple

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I don’t drink beer.  I don’t like beer.  But to Jerry, this swill is the elixir of the Gods.  Go figure.

Tomorrow I begin a brief vacation.   Not because I’m sick, a family member’s sick or I have some stupid errand(s,) which is usually the only reason I take time off.  Granted, I did tell Jerry I would list a bunch of his crap on E-Bay tonight (joy and rapture) and I did put the rack of ribs in the slow cooker.  But he’s on his own for a couple of days which means the drive-thru better have some cold Natty Packs, and I better make sure he has Katie’s (the local good pizza joint) on speed dial.  Tomorrow morning I head for the hills- literally- where Sprint access is a crap shoot (so no internet and probably no phone either) and things should be somewhat bull-shit free as long as Jerry doesn’t show up and ruin the quiet.

I’ll have Miss Clara with me, to screen any potential “visitors.”

Clara enjoys being at the campground.  I do have to make sure she’s on a leash any time she’s not in the cabin, but I give her a long lead and let her explore.  Clara is obedient and usually a good listener, but my only fear is that with the prey drive she has that she would lunge off after a critter and get lost.  Prey drive is an instinctual thing with dogs, and when she’s locked on to something she may or may not respond to verbal commands.  This is why a lot of people who work with protection breeds use shock collars (no I am not going there) so they can get a dog’s attention should they get locked on a prey item.  I don’t want to take that chance in an area where she can get lost and/or mistaken for a deer.  Admittedly, I’ve been paranoid with Clara ever since she was hit by a truck three years ago.  She has never attempted to get beyond the fence since then, even when Sheena has found – or fabricated for herself- ways out.   Sheena has about ten pounds on Clara, so any hole big enough for Sheena is more than big enough for Clara.  Before she got hit Clara thought it was a fun game to try to find holes in the fence and such, but she has not strayed even once since.  Still, I’m not taking any undue chances with her.

I’m not trying to get my hopes up about the upcoming election, though I was most encouraged by Romney’s debate performance last Wednesday.  I’d never really thought Romney was much of a public speaker but this debate was a most pleasant surprise.  The man knows what he’s talking about, and more importantly, he believes in what he says.   The absence of the teleprompter was rather telling for Obama.  Apparently Eastwood was right.  Now if only the rest of the world will get a clue and see what I’ve known all along.  The self-proclaimed “emperor” is naked as a jay bird.

Bluejays may not wear clothes, but at least they do have feathers.

Bluejays are interesting birds in that they eat almost anything, and they’re rather aggressive.  A few years ago there was a huge scare in Franklin County regarding West Nile virus and people were asked to report any dead crows or jays (crows and jays are actually related types of birds) so the health department could test them.  Of course I’m the lucky one to find a dead jay out in the front yard that wasn’t visibly mauled by cats or hit by anything, just stiff and dead as a post, so kept my distance and called the health department to come and get it for testing.  I’m not a big fan of communicable disease, so I figure better safe than sorry.  If there’s crap like that lurking about in my yard I want to know about it.

In response to my call, some guy from the health department showed up, with his hazmat garb and everything, to pick up the dead jay (with thickly gloved hands of course.)  The health department guy observed that the jay’s mouth was open and that it had another bird (likely a baby starling) jammed in its throat in such a manner that it likely choked to death.  He still took the dead jay for testing, but assured me that the cause of death was most likely asphxyiation rather than West Nile.  Apparently this is a somewhat common manner of death for jays.

Thankfully no one needs to tell me this twice.

Most sports are pretty stupid when you think about it.  Football for instance, involves chasing a funky shaped ball up and down a field.  It also involves having very big guys jump all over your sorry carcass.  I spent the first thirteen years of my life trying to avoid having my ass kicked.  Even if I were coordinated and could play a sport for money, I don’t think the scratch would be worth daily ass kickings all over again. NFL players are coming out and saying that they are getting brain damage from all the concussions they get playing football.  Granted most athletes aren’t rocket scientists to begin with (and I say this from deep within the highly uncoordinated geek camp) but shouldn’t brain damage be your sign that playing certain sports might not be worth it?

Today you’re throwing a football on national TV.  Tomorrow you’re sucking up pureed bananas in a straw whilst shitting your drawers.

Hockey is another sport I don’t get.  It’s only fun if they fight.

Which brings us to NASCAR fans and WalMart shoppers….

Perhaps that’s mean of me,  and a bit ironic, because occasionally I go to WalMart, if I have to get something I can’t find at Target, or I’m in Marion where there is no Target.  But NASCAR, I can’t bring myself to watch that shit.  Ever.

Must have taken this pic in Newark (OH)- the Lardy Lady Capitol of the Midwest!

Freddy Mercury would have loved Newark.  Big fat Fannys everywhere!

Speaking of big fat Fanny- but she’s a cat- and she’s cute.

Some Enchanted Rednecks, A Few of My Favorite Things, and Improved is My Mood

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I’m not generally the kind of person that goes around spouting sunshine out of my nether regions.  At best I’m pragmatic.  At worst I’m downright fatalistic, and that’s when the panic attacks and confusion set in. Anxiety sucks. I’ve taken that trip before, and I do NOT want to go there.  The past few days I’d been heading down that dark spiral, and letting things get on my nerves entirely too much, but today things are looking up.  I attribute the improvement in my mental/emotional state to the positive power of prayer.  Despite my dark mood last night, I dragged myself to my bible study class, and as usual, the conversation and the study material was both timely and spoke to my own dissatisfaction and melancholy.  There are times when I need a bit of a nudge to keep from falling into the same boring rut and despair.  After all, I have much to be thankful for, and I do have some activities to look forward to.

Saturday night I’m taking Steve-o to the Mansfield Reformatory.  This is the old prison where the movie Shawshank Redemption was filmed.  On the surface that sounds terrible, and normally the words prison and fun should never go together, but there’s an event called the Dead Walk that’s held around Halloween every year where you get to go through the prison, and legend has it, get the holy bejeebers scared out of you.  I love Halloween and all things slasher (I’m the only one Steve-o could get to take him to the Saw movies) so it should be a cool trip.

Zombies are awesome.  I’ll have to find a DVD of Shaun of the Dead to enjoy at the campground.

Next week I have actually arranged to take my three sanity days (Wednesday, Thursday and Friday) and I’m taking Clara down to the campground for some peace and quiet.  Since the campground is pretty deserted during the week- especially in the off season- I want Clara with me.  If I want to use the phone there I have to go to the top of the hill, and even then Sprint access is sporadic.

Nobody gets past Clara.  Unless she approves.

Clara, on the other hand, is always alert, and I would have have plenty of advance notice should anyone turn up unannounced.   So all I need to do is bring some DVDs, some reading material, the MP3 player, clean clothes and toiletries and stop off at the grocery store in town for a few days’ meal fixings and it’s all cool.   Hopefully Jerry won’t ruin the blissful silence by coming down there. Then I’ll end up driving five miles one way to fetch his beer, smokes, lottery tickets and so forth, whenever he runs out of any of those.   My dream vacation- driving into the nearest town at all hours to fetch for Jerry.  I’d rather be at work.  It sounds mean, but a vacation with him is just work for me.  He gets plenty of rest at home.  I’m always doing his leg work for him.   He doesn’t need a vacation. The idea here is for me to get away and not be pestered.  However, I have a bad feeling he’s going to end up going down there.  If he stays home he might actually have to fix a meal, or heaven forbid, cart his own happy ass to the drive thru that’s just down the road (well within walking distance) to replenish his beer, smokes and lottery ticket needs.

Jerry, it’s not like we live in the ‘hood.  The drive-thru is not in Detroit on 8 Mile Road for heaven’s sake.

I’ve been on 8 Mile Road in Detroit.  Jerry had bought some wheels on E-Bay from someone up there on local pick up.  The dude lived in a very horrible neighborhood, which we didn’t realize until we got up there. I had both doors locked on the truck, and even at a stop light I kept it in first with the clutch in, ready to take off quick should the truck be jumped- and this was in broad daylight. Suffice to say it appears to be a war zone, and so far is the only place I’ve ever been in my life that is worse than both Cleveland and East St. Louis.   I never lost anything in Detroit and have no desire to go back there.  I did enjoy the Henry Ford Museum in Dearborn, but even getting there requires one to drive in places one should never attempt to drive- unless you have an armored car.

I’m pretty sure Steve-o wasn’t trolling about in the CVS looking for cosmetics.

I’d warned Steve-o about the diversity he might experience in the area around Children’s Hospital when the baby had to go there a few months ago.  We used to live near that area but now the hospital has bought up a good deal of the real estate, and what’s left has either been “gentrified” (aka: made too expensive for rednecks to live there) or ironically, taken over by crack-heads.  Steve-o wanted to walk over to the CVS to get smokes and pop with sugar in it (which they don’t sell in the hospital) so I cautioned him to watch his back because he’s used to rural locales and rural rednecks.  Steve-o no sooner arrives at the CVS when a rather effeminate man taps him on the shoulder and whispers, “Honey, I’ve got just what you need.”  Steve-o is not a small guy, and he’s also not shy.  Steve-o looked the little dude in the eye, shaked his fist, and replied, “I’ve got just what you need right here.”  Fortunately there was no altercation.  I don’t care about other’s lifestyle choices, but the mommy-claws still kind of come out on that one, which is weird, because Steve-o is perfectly capable of fending off unwanted attention.  It’s still creepy – at least to me.

Other people’s lifestyle choices don’t bother me as long as they’re not shoved in my face.  I could care less- until or unless the bull dykes hit on me.  So far that hasn’t happened, and I am glad for it.  Then I might have a problem, should a simple “I’m straight,” fail to deflect unwanted advances.  I probably won’t ever have to worry about it.  I don’t get hit on by men either.

I am no paragon of good parenting skills, but at least I never did this.

Steve-o did get himself duct-taped to a core support once, when he was about nine, but that’s his just dessert for mouthing off to the guys at the body shop.  Nine year old boys do tend to exaggerate their ass-kicking skills a bit much.  I only wish I’d gotten a pic of him hanging off the core support of that F-150.  Call me a mean mommy, but I made him beg and plead and cry “Uncle” so the guys would cut him down.   I hope that didn’t warp him any more than he warped the guy who he decorated with a Sharpie.  I guess it’s not good to be the first guy to pass out at a party, at least if it’s a party Steve-o is attending.   His buddy woke up with the word “PENIS” emblazoned on his forehead in black Sharpie, backward, so he could read it clearly when he looked in the mirror.

If this is how some people treat their friends…

Irreverence is Underrated, the Pithy Humor of Youth, and Mid-Life Angst

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I love this kid’s honesty.

In 100 years, statistics would have it that over 90% of people currently inhabiting the planet will be DEAD!  If one wants to keep citing statistics, the odds are 100% that I will be dead in 100 years.   Taking the Dirt Nap.  Sleeping the big sleep.  Not even the little old dudes in India and Russia have made it to 143.  I don’t think I want to be first for that.

I’m sure that in the near future near-immortality will be possible- technically- but let’s face it, that sort of engineering poses some moral questions.  I am not a big sci-fi fan.  The idea of living on as a disembodied computer program and then being deposited into a manufactured body as presented in the reanimation scenarios on the Science Channel show Through the Wormhole  is downright creepy.

Now if I could engineer the body, that would be intriguing.  If I could be about 6′ tall, weigh about 120, and have the perfect man-bait model bod, I could have some fun.  However, being the sexy vixen would take some upgrading to the motor centers of my brain as well as a full body upgrade.  What’s the point of being man-bait if you fall all over yourself and spill crap on your sexy clothes?  It’s no tragedy to spill coffee all over the clothes I bought at Goodwill or off the Target clearance rack, but to spill coffee all over designer duds, or twist my ankles and break the heels off of high faluting stilettos?  That would suck.

What’s really bad is I thought this was Steven Tyler for a minute.  My bad.

Today’s body-mod technology is scary.  I couldn’t afford cosmetic surgery in my wildest dreams, and even if I had the scratch I’d be loathe to actually do it.  The only plastic surgery that seems to be effective, at least most of the time, is breast enlargement, which I need like a hole in the head.  38Ds are enough for anyone.  Keeping them from moving any further south is my ongoing objective.  The things that are wrong with my appearance aren’t fixable.  Short arms, short legs and bad proportions don’t fix.

I’ve had major surgeries.  It takes a long time to recover.  Knowing my luck I would end up looking even worse than when they first started, or I’d get MRSA or something and die an excruciating and macabre death from it.  I think I’ll reserve surgical intervention for the truly necessary things, until they can do surgery like on Star Trek– where they scan you with a high faluting electronic box and you’re magically healed, with no blood or incisions or anything.

Implanting my brain into a super-body is probably not going to happen.  So you do what you can with what you have.

If all else fails, be glad you can “P” !

I’m surprised this teacher didn’t give the kid a gold star for being able to perform bodily functions, as much as the schools have been dumbed down.  Personally I have to admire his weisenheimer attitude even if the teacher’s dreadfully politically correct response sort of dampens the effect.  “Best self?”  What kind of happy horseshit is that?  Would he be a “better self” if, like Beavis and Butthead, he forgot how to pee?

Then again,

It’s fun to screw with others.

Just in case anyone is curious, I found this an interesting assignment too.